The Door

Wishful thinking on the threshold of life,

Stuck at the juxtaposition of right and wrong,

Silently praying to the gods to save him,

The fearless were always meant to be alone.

For the life of the solitary minded,

Is based on the torment of childhood,

Seeing the truth of the world,

Consumes the ideals of the pure.

In the harsh light of the demons staring,

He walks towards the door of his future.

He pauses, gazing into the eyes so red with hate,

Smiling he grabs the knob and walks into the unknown void.

Falling through the cloud filled skies,

The sea approaching at the speed of light,

Is this the end?

He softly wonders.

Caught by the Angel of heaven,

She brings his fall to a halt,

Silently tending to his wounds,

Slowly, bringing him into paradise.

He glances at the sky one last time,

And sees the door disintegrating.

He softly stares at the angel who saved him,

Yes, he will learn to love again.

Cliff

Standing on the ledge,

I wonder why I'm here,

This place is nothing but unknown,

To me this is like a babe's first breath.

Take the plunge?

I ask myself silently,

The roaring crack of the thunder calms me,

In a hushed voice, I call to the gods for help.

Free falling down to the depths,

The darkest hole without a bottom,

I cannot fathom the reasons for life.

Wings,

You catch me on my descent into madness,

You pull me up to the mountains,

Far away from the cruel darkness.

My sanity is fixed on one point,

You. 

Sand

Do we really understand why the world turns? 
Is it up to us to decipher the clues left, hidden under the earth's shell? 
Let fate decide for us. 
We are but pawns, 
Insignificant grains in the sand of the universe. 
But once in a while, 
We form together and make a structure too beautiful to comprehend. 
The glass of mankind. 


And all it takes is just a small push, 


For it to fall and shatter.

The Son

Little yellow ball of burning gases,

I stare at thee on the warm summer afternoons,

Over a cool drink and a cigar,

Contemplating life decisions.

For a moment you seem to hide,

Behind a wall of vapour,

The droplets form and you are lost,

To the grey clouds of winter.

The cold invites me to a place surrounded by the unknown,

Maybe I have been here before,

I could never comprehend the concept of time,

But in this place, it is lost to the will of the cosmos.

This place,

This wonderful, beautiful escape,

Came at a price I could never afford.

To pay with my past is just unthinkable,

To forget who I am,

And start anew.

Little orange ball of burning flames,

I see you as clearly as the light of day,

For you are shining right above me,

And from my paradise I consider thee so lovely.

Take me now from this place,

I see it lost, and fallen from grace.

Take me now and all is forgiven,

From the grave, my body shall rise.

To right the wrongs of my broken past,

And see the world end in a hopeless mess.

Come out little yellow ball,

The world awaits a hero.

Rise up little one,

You are, after all, the son of the sun.

The Ramblings Of A Dreamer

Its funny. I walked in expecting nothing. I waited patiently and it bore results. Results I could have only hoped for.

Then, time came into it.

Time.

You bastard. You down right cunt from the depths of hell. If you didn't exist, I would definitely be happier.

Yes, I am happy. How could you even think of suggesting otherwise?

What I'm trying to tell you is that I could be happier. I could be with someone, sharing my life and silly moments and making new memories.

Don't get me started on fate.

You guys go hand in hand. Its almost as if you sit down together and plan this like its some sick sadistic turn on.

I wanted to feel this way. But not like this. I keep having these feelings and I just end up being broken.

Broken in a way that I cannot be fixed to return to the way I was. I'm a changed man. I like who he is but I want to be the man I was.

Wants. Needs. Possessing things.

Things that I don't need and probably never will.

So I just lay here with my phone in my hands and I write this.

These two can be so sickening . When the day time runs out and fate no longer plays a part in my life, I'll be happy.

I'll also be dead too.

These ramblings aren't so good but, maybe it’s a good thing to write stuff down.

My thoughts are just moving too fast. I do understand why she can't be with me. But I'm such a gullible cunt that I will believe that she may turn around.

Pointless. It really is pointless.

This life, these loves, these mindless flings.

Women.

Women of all kinds, sizes and personalities.

I can deal with some. But not all. Why can't I just talk to women? I mean I try but I can never get them to like me. I'll always be that guy. The guy who just missed. The guy who never got the girl but got her to like him.

No one should feel like this. Its a horrid, lonely feeling.

Drinking and smoking will never satisfy the growing hole in my heart.

My heart beats, but I can't feel my feet. I've taken the fall too many times and it never mattered in the end. In the end it was always going to end the same way.

Friends.

Now I just wait to complete my time on this earth and let fate take the reigns. I want to wake up in the warmth of a summer morning and know that I'm with someone who will be there, and treat me right.

Because honestly, there's only so much heartache I can take.

Love is just an aspect of life that comes and goes at it pleases.

Maybe its the mastermind in all this.

I'll never know. But if there's one thing i would ask to them right now its this:

Fate tell me how its going to happen. Time end now. And love, go fuck yourself, because you've fucked me enough in the heart, take your shit and leave. 

The Box

I softly thump against the surface of these comfy walls,

I scream and shout my lungs out only never to be heard.

But I'm happy in this warm cosy space,

I call it my own and I need no one else.

Thoughts of companionship pass through my mind,

I need someone to complete this line.

She's never to be seen inside my perfect box,

For ventured out, I have not.

I have never left these walls so familiar,

To enter into the new.

I'm lost to the dreary routine that fills my entire day.

Enough is enough, I step outside,

She's standing there and waves at me.

She slowly walks towards me with a smile as bright as a thousand suns.

I never thought it could be so nice outside my box.

She stabs me in the heart over and over again,

I retreat to my humble abode near death.

But my box heals my wounds and picks me up.

Never shall I venture out again. 

Sonshine

He sits and stares at the moon,

Its light shining till the flower blooms,

Dawn is far away,

And his thoughts lead him astray.

Silhouettes of past lives surround him,

Haunting him till he finds the blade,

Bringing it swiftly to his neck.

With one movement he can take his life,

But it was never his to begin with,

His mother claims the rights over his body,

And the gods await his moment of glory,

When he fights the greatest enemy,

To bring the light of day to the earth.

He laughs a silent laugh,

He is, after all, the son of the sun.

Futures

Her muted cry,

Lost to the wind,

Winding through the gale of madness,

The only way out is endless darkness.

But a beating heart will never tire,

Till its met with its last desires,

To soar with its better half,

And hush the wind that tried to halt the spark,

That ignites the fires of her dreams,

And moves her on to greener fields,

Where the sun shines on forever,

And leaves behind her world of terror.

And a faint heartbeat,

Now put forever to sleep.

Premise

My silence met with noise,

Above the tears of joy,

Seeing waves of sound,

That break the barriers,

Of fallen men on shoals so dark,

Songs lost to the hushed lark,

Beauty beyond the depths of the shallows,

Walking slowly towards the gallows,

Where the righteous are put to rest,

Their humble cries put to the test,

Trampled roses on the cobblestones,

The mighty laying in heaps of broken bones.

Women, I Love You

Each day is another task,

He slowly picks himself up from the ground,

Constantly questioned and put down,

The women in his lives are loving, caring and evil,

Silently waiting for his fuck ups to happen,

With sharp fangs for the flow of blood to hit the floor,

He sighs,

Maybe one day he'll leave this place,

But the love for his mother brings him back to reality,

Where his siblings vent on his joys,

Destroying his hopes and dreams,

Burning to ashes the silver linings.

Waiting is all he can do now,

And skipping stones on the river,

The currents not affecting the hard stone,

As it brushes against the waters surface.

Vices are but a hope of life in the vast desert of his days.

Maybe someday she'll appear in a mirrored sort of way.

But those thoughts are best left for the weak. 

Between The Sun And The Moon

She walked her usual path,

Between sunny skies and the darkest moons,

She glances at the cool, calm inviting look of the forests,

The trees look like the mouth of a wolf,

As if grinning at her in a cold silent way.

The sun starts to fade as night turns to day,

The moon slowly disappears, as her path switches towards a 

bend in the road,

Still continuing down the middle of the earth.

Alas the road splits in two,

Unaware she must choose,

The moon, as if alive,

Urges her to take the edge,

Of negative words that cut through steel,

And drive it through her heart. 

A shadow forms,

The blade is dropped,

The light was never gone.

The moon goes under the hood. 

Love

Love, a lovely loving concept, that breaks barriers and silences armies.
Love, a thing we search for our entire lives but some of us never really find.
Love, a chemical imbalance in the brain, a shot of adrenalin through the heart,
a soft whisper in our times of darkness.
Yes, love, not the strongest of all human emotions, but just as powerful as hope.
For love is a derivation of hope.
And it is in hoping that we still yearn for love and when we do find it,
we find the answers to our universe.

Liars

We fly above the moon,
Worthless beings of beef and milk,
Cheese is what grants us happiness,
To steal our neighbours silk.
Peaches of the softest juice,
With hardened centres of drunken curtains,
Stare at the lights that clear the darkness,
The tears of the moon lost to the weary,
Inebriated cousins of wasted birthdays,
Rotting tables of aged teak,
Make life bleak,
With caps of the broken,
Silhouettes of lanterns with extinguished wicks.
We fight for the lost bleeding hearts,
Whilst digging into the gutters of destroyed livers,
Striped shirts of corporate hogs,
Who steal the songs of the righteous,
The whitest ghosts that make the shadows bright,
The lotus amongst the brittle cactus.
The ending happiness of relationships lasting,
Living through the love of others..
And cutting branches off the strongest trees..
Felling the sap to the ground only lost to the hard desert of molecular grains of broken silk...
The cry of a mute,
Heard by the deaf,
Seen by the blind,
Only saved by the faithless....

The Lily

To watch the lily as it grows,

But never had time for the sow,

Too busy caught in the day to day,

To stand and admire the suns rays,

As they illumine the painted lily,

To make the murkiness seem so pretty,

The underbelly of forgotten souls,

As they decay slowly towards the holes,

Of rotten flesh and destroyed dreams,

The plotting of those horrible schemes,

But out of all this eternal madness sprouts a lily,

And only then do you realize why the murkiness seems so pretty.



- Marc Crasto.

Did I have to?

Did I have to?
Did I have to see you go?
Did I have to see the show?
Did it never matter when the wind blows?
Seeing is believing they say,
but there has never been a day,
when I wanted you to pray,
that we were never over,
and there existed a four leaf clover.
The heart is nothing but a toy,
meant to be played with for one's own sick joy,
but I never saw it die,
for now there's nothing inside.
And life is never as it seems,
there are choices I regret.
For reasons unbeknownst to me,
I smoke my cigarette.
I smoke for the times I've always been let down,
I smoke for the times my smile was met with a frown,
I drink to satisfy my life's failures,
I drink to try to move on to green pastures.
but I'm as healthy as a horse,
seems my throat never gets hoarse,
to sing as sweetly as the nightingale,
amongst the hardened voices of the pale.
Now all that's left is a sigh,
a soft reminder why I'll never get high,
to right the wrongs of my rotten past,
and stand tall as the ships mast.
Creeping slowly towards the end goal,
of happy thoughts and a bright yellow shoal,
that greets me with an evil smile,
the ghost of what I've left behind.